The Devil You know
by Michael Konnor
Summary: Daredevil goes out to kill time
1. Default Chapter

Daredevil  
  
Chapter 1: Memories  
  
Matt Murdock sat in his office and tapped his pen dutifully against his desktop; the rhythm worked liked a metronome against his eardrums. He silently sat and counted the beats and used it to calm his own racing heartbeat. It wasn't the stress of his job that he couldn't take. Being a high priced lawyer wasn't all it was cracked up to be but at least he got some small satisfaction out of helping people. But sometimes, big fish got away, that would infuriate him. Karen would say that he would live to fight another day, that always seemed to calm him down, but Karen was dead, killed by a psycho with a hatred for Daredevil. He could have stopped it happening, if he just got there quicker, recovered faster, never let that psycho called Bullseye get his hands on his own Billy-club. He never would have thrown it through Karen; she never would have died in his arms. A snapping noise brought his mind back to the present and he felt the nib of the pen bite deep into his flesh felt the blood flowing through his hands. He let the pain flow and used it to center his concentration. Sure, other heroes lost loved ones, but like anything else in life you never think it is going to happen to you. He had loved Karen since she first walked into his office and now that she is gone, he felt a gaping maw where his heart and soul used to be. He stood up and walked around from his desk, placing his hands on the desktop he felt the fine grain of the wood venire. He wasn't a tall man nor an overly imposing one, with his red hair and his unassuming musculature one wouldn't think twice to look at him. Matt was blind, blinded at birth by some chemicals going through a town which it shouldn't have been, dumping all over the street, and seeping into the eyes of a ten years old boy, blinding him and enhancing his other senses. It doesn't matter that the he lost his sight saving the old man who nearly got hit by the army truck, it doesn't matter to him that the truck shouldn't have been dumping radioactive waste in a city with a population of more than a half million people, it didn't matter that he got blinded, but he was sick of the innocents getting hurt. Laws broken, havoc caused, chaos ensues. His head started hurting; the room seemed overly small, even to his enhanced senses.  
  
"Hi Matt, what's new?"  
  
His law partner's cheerful banter almost made his emotions seem a travesty to his bright mood.  
  
"I am going out, Foggy, keep the light burning."  
  
Ten minutes later, Daredevil was swinging over the street; a faint scent caught his awareness. Fear!  
  
"HELP!"  
  
"Scream all you want, lady. This is Hell's Kitchen, anyone who hears you ain't gonna care!"  
  
The thug advanced on the young mother.  
  
"Au contraire, I beg to differ"  
  
The thug stopped at the sound of the voice and slowly turned around to see a red imposing emblem of 'DD' staring him in the face.  
  
"Long time no see, Weasel. Beating up on mothers now or are you seeking redemption for what you put your parents through?"  
  
"Look, 'devil. Back off or I swear, I'll knife the bitch."  
  
Daredevil narrowed his eyes under his mask. His eyes didn't convey any telltale signs, but his enhanced hearing picked up Weasel's heart rate and it was shooting high, but steady. Steady enough for him to be telling the truth.  
  
Weasel put his knife under the mother's chin and pulled her around in front of him.  
  
"Let me go or she dies!"  
  
Daredevil raised his hands in a gesture of submission and backed off a few paces. Weasel turned and bolted down the alley. Daredevil walked up to the mother.  
  
"You ok ma'am?"  
  
She pushed against him "Why? Why didn't you stop him?  
  
He let her beat herself against him until she was all cried out. He stayed with her, until she was calm enough to carry on and escorted her back to her apartment.  
  
"Will you be ok?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I am sorry about acting like that earlier, I was just.nervous.y'know, adrenaline."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"I understand."  
  
She quietly closed the door and he left, down the stairs avoiding the looks from the kids as he walked past them and endured the taunts now as he used to endure when he was a kid.  
  
Daredevil, they used to taunt him, all because he wouldn't do anything they dared him to; he wore it as a shameful admission of all the things his father refused to let him do because it was wrong. He immersed himself in books and promised himself that if his father wouldn't let him do wrong then no one else could do wrong either. Later on, the name of Daredevil became like a tribute to his father's name. Every time he put on the costume, he silently said to himself  
  
"This one is for you dad."  
  
He felt the air hitting his face like a cold shower. It woke him up to the noises in the city. Cars honking at other cars, arguments in the tenements, people making love not caring about who heard them. He smiled slightly. He heard shuffling footsteps.  
  
"You gonna be brave, Weasel and take me down?"  
  
"I just thought that if I came to see you, we could talk, all friendly and we could make a deal."  
  
"You have nothing I want."  
  
"Hear me out. I can give you information about goings on roundabouts."  
  
"In exchange for.?"  
  
"You look the other way when I am around."  
  
Daredevil nearly laughed aloud.  
  
He fought for people, it didn't matter to him what information he got from Weasel, it would pervert his cause if to get it, people died.  
  
He turned on Weasel and locked his head in a stranglehold, he whispered in his ear.  
  
"Listen to me well and listen to me good. There will be no compromise. You tell me what you know and MAYBE I won't beat you to death here in the street. "  
  
Weasel's heartbeat soared with fright.  
  
"You wouldn't kill me. You're a hero."  
  
"A hero who knows where all the bodies are buried, a hero who knows ten ways to kill you from this stranglehold I have you in, a hero who knows people who would thank me for killing you. Give me your reason again?"  
  
"OK, I 'll talk."  
  
Daredevil released him and stood back.  
  
"I'm waiting."  
  
Weasel shuffled his feet and sighed heavily  
  
"There is a ship coming into dock. It's called the 'Hermes' as in the page of the gods kinda Hermes. It's bringing in arms to fund the war the Kingpin has going in the Lower East Side between the Dragons and the Griffins. He is funding both and making profit selling them assault rifles and SMG's"  
  
Daredevil shook his head and tried to stop he flashback forming.  
  
"I'll kill him"  
  
Matt punched the wall; he felt his fingers slide further back up his knuckle. He knew inwardly that at very least his fingers were dislocated, at most he had broke them.  
  
"MATT!"  
  
Her voice tore through his soul like an angelic conscience. He spun round and snarled at her  
  
"What!"  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"Fisk got off. A technicality they called it. I had other words for it. Damnit!"  
  
He punched the wall again; he never felt the pain lancing through his arm.  
  
"How can they not convict someone called the Kingpin of Crime?" She made it sound innocent.  
  
He spun on her and looked, accusingly at her with sightless eyes.  
  
"No one above street level knows who he is and those that do know are either his friends or his enemies. He has more friends than enemies because his enemies are all dead and buried next to Jimmy Hoffa. He runs porn rings; drugs dens and gun smuggling. What he doesn't know isn't worth knowing."  
  
She looked at him with concern evident in her every movement, every glance.  
  
"Matt, it isn't your job to put every scum bag away. You can't be a city's conscience. That is why we have police, we have other heroes, and we have so much more. You have so much more to give. Your rage isn't an outgrowth of you; it is an infection, which is so not you. Please, be the person I fell in love with, don't be this stranger. Please."  
  
Matt nodded and sank to the ground.  
  
She calmly walked over and took out the first aid kit.  
  
She looked down at him and smiled as he sat there.  
  
"Now what did the bumbling blind attorney do this time?"  
  
He looked up at her and smiled.  
  
"Aint stairs a bitch?"  
  
Daredevil looked at Weasel  
  
"I want to know it all."  
  
Later: Daredevil crouched on the warehouse roof, overlooking the wharf. The smell of gunmetal was evident even from this distance. All he saw was the vision of the Kingpin floating in his mind and every now and then he saw Karen.  
  
"Your rage isn't an outgrowth of you; it is an infection, which is so not you. Please, be the person I fell in love with, don't be this stranger. Please."  
  
He shook his head and brought his Billy club up and triggered the swing line. It shot out and attached itself to a nearby lamppost stationed just below him. He swung down to pier level and stood there following the smell of cold steel.  
  
Sailors and longshoreman milled about the wharf and didn't heed him as he sneaked around the dock.  
  
The 'Hermes' stood tall and proud against the backdrop of New York docks, to Daredevil, tall and proud was all he could see, slight motion on the decks by stick figure men and outlines of loading equipment as the ship was being packed. His 'interpretation' of sight wasn't as acute as a sighted person but what it lacked in detail; it made up with in 'bonuses'. Daredevils' senses were heightened between ten and one hundred fold, after they read a scene they put all their sensory data into one grainy picture, which he could interpret. Granted it wasn't better than actual sight but he got by pretty well.  
  
The water flowed and ran below him, it looked weird to his senses. Snapping himself out of his reverie, he drew a deep breath and jumped in. The shock of the cold water made him want to jump back out again. His senses located the hidden airlock that they used to ferry items to and fro. Surfacing in the belly of the ship. He stayed still in the water while his senses scanned the immediate area. His senses located two men carrying boxes out of the airlock room. Slipping silently out of the water, Daredevil tapped one on the shoulder. The man turned his head as much as he could. Daredevil smiled as he hit the man with a straight punch to the jaw. As he dropped, Daredevil caught his box and gently lowered it to the ground. Edging his way to the main control room, Daredevil took the power line and overloaded them, the breakers cut in and disabled the overload but not before every light on the ship blew, plunging it into darkness. He smiled.  
  
"Just way I like it. At least now Fisk will know where I've been. Just the way I like it."  
  
He heard footsteps running towards the diving chamber, towards him.  
  
He withdrew his two small batons and rolled them over his hands into a ready position.  
  
"Come and get it." He silently threw the threat in Fisk's face. Then as always words sprung to mind.  
  
"Your rage isn't an outgrowth of you; it is an infection, which is so not you."  
  
A small whisper echoed into his ear, even with his senses he had bother listening.  
  
"Let it go."  
  
He turned from the imminent fight and jumped into the chamber. Surfacing he pointed his swing line at the rail of the ship. It attached itself as he climbed up hand over hand as his legs dangled in space. Hanging onto his line with one hand he eased himself over to the rail with the other. Flicking his hand the line came loose; he vaulted over the railing of the ship. Standing still, he let the atmosphere wash over him as people betrayed themselves inadvertently. He swung a high kick over his shoulder and felt the impact of foot meeting bone. Daredevil turned around to spot a crewman holding his nose. His heavy breathing made it obvious to him that he really was out of shape.  
  
"Give it up. You should know by now that dock authorities are on their way."  
  
The thug raised his gun.  
  
Daredevil shook his head in the negative and let fly with his Billy club. The collision of the objects jarring the gun out of his hand to land against the rim of the cargo bay even as the club ricocheted and returned to Daredevils outstretched hand.  
  
"Tell Fisk I'll get him."  
  
Without even looking he threw the club at the crane line. It hit the links holding the cargo to the crane as the cargo of ammunition fell into the cargo bay; there was an explosion.  
  
Triggering his swing line, daredevil swung away.  
  
Foggy looked up to see Daredevil standing on the rim of the window.  
  
"You feel better?"  
  
Matt Murdock took his mask off and smiled.  
  
He lay in bed next to her and all the worries were forgotten, he reached out with his senses to find nothing but peace and the calm breathing of the person he loved lying next to him. A gunshot went off, Matt sat up straight.  
  
"I knew it wouldn't last forever."  
  
He kissed Karen's head goodbye.  
  
He knelt by her grave and placed some flowers in the vase.  
  
"I think you would have been proud of me today. I know that for however long I live doing what I do, knowing you made a difference in me is all I could ever ask. My father taught me that there are better solutions than your fists. You taught me that there is more to life than fighting. Happy Birthday Karen. I will always love you." 


	2. Rematch

I side stepped and carefully took in the scene. Bullseye started to mirror my movements. He smiled at me and started to put his hands behind his back. His footsteps were quiet and confident exactly as I expected an assassin to behave. His heartbeat was slow and steady; his muscles were tense and ready for a move. The alley wasn't built to hold in all this tension. Something was bound to give. A trashcan rattling scared a cat into jumping between us. Its fur lined body crumpled up as the throwing star took it through the heart, its body falling at my feet, twitching. I backflipped several times as Bullseye charged me throwing several alleyway items at me. Trashcan lids, debris and 2x4's all flew through the air always just missing me. I kept flipping whilst concentrating on what his heart told me and what muscles were tensing and how much pressure was being applied to them. By calculating all of this, I could predict when the object was going to get thrown giving me enough time to get out of its way. It does sound complex, but I have been doing it since I was twelve and it has become ingrained in my consciousness. On my last flip, I spun in mid twist and fired my grapnel which was concealed in my baton and rappelled up the opposing building. My feet never touched the ground. Bullseye picked up his knives which were knocked out of his grip when I dropped down on the arms deal. I felt the disturbance in the air as they were thrown at me. It was a split second choice of whether my lined costume could take a knife wound or drop out of reach and probably fall to my death. I smiled, it really was no choice at all. I released the baton. The building in front of me wasn't a building at all, it was a series of outlines, just like in a child's' dot-to-dot. The ground below me was a black abyss waiting to swallow me as I dove towards it head first. It has been waiting all my life to swallow me, it will have to wait longer though. I shall not die today. A disturbance on the periphery of my senses warned me something big, heavy and fast was heading my way. I reached my hands above my head and tucked my legs into my body. My hands hit the roof of the car as I leant forward over balancing myself and flipping up onto my feet. The outline of a man with a gun ran towards me. His heartbeat was off the charts and his breathing was laboured. Changing direction, I swivelled and used him as a landing pad. Another small object flew towards me, I whirled in the direction and threw my baton towards it. They both collided and destroyed each other. Now it was down to us, no more toys, no more gunsels or henchman, mano et mano as my old professor used to term it when it was just the lawyer and the jury. He swung a high kick to my jaw, probably meant to stun more than seriously wound. I spun down low and brought my foot behind his shins. He fell backwards and turned it into a roll away from me. I picked up clutter around him, scattered pieces of rubbish and discarded pizza boxes. Fighting someone in an alley is one thing, fighting someone who can kill you with a toothpick is another thing entirely. The place was littered with weapons. An empty can was thrown towards me, I reached up to bat it out of my way, it stung me on my forearm, my arm went dead as it hit several nerve clusters. I winced in more pain than any normal man. Having enhanced touch isn't all its cracked up to be.  
  
"Today your gonna die, 'devil"  
  
It didn't seem polite to intrude upon his personal. I ran back down the alley. I heard the air whine as a small card flew towards me. I turned my last step into a roll as I landed hands first on the dead car. Keeping a hold on it, I came to my feet and turned throwing the cat towards Bullseye. He ducked his shoulder as it flew harmlessly over him. My 'vision' showed me the end of the alley. I stopped and turned to face my supposed doom.  
  
"I'm gonna make you beg, 'devil. Just like that bitch, Paige I killed."  
  
I wore my costume to intimidate and to cause hesitation. I don't know what it looks like because I am blind, but over the years I know it has served its purpose. The red rising up in front of me was like a wave. I keep my rage in check because despite everything I am a humane man who believes in the letter of the law but also that the law must be tempered by justice. People should get what they deserve. No more , no less. The punishment must fit the crime. At this moment, I believe I would have killed him. I don't know what stopped me. Call it divine intervention, call it remembrance to a love now lost or call it a moment of rational thought. But I didn't kill him and now I am here in front of you and I don't know why. The nun stepped out of the confessional box and looked at the man on the opposite side of her. He had red hair and as he sat there kneeling, he remembered another boy lying in a hospital bed, screaming that the noises were going to kill him, his eyes were bound. He was being fed through a drip because he couldn't stand to have anyone else in the room with him. Their breathing would consume him, the door closing sounded like thunder. It took this boy's misery to make this nun come out of the convent for the first time in years and why did she do this for a boy? A mother's duty is firstly to her son.  
  
"Come out of there Matthew. You'll get your trousers dirty."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
He stood up and walked out in front of her, hitting her a few times with his cane in the legs.  
  
"Follow me."  
  
She led him through the back area of the church and opened the door for him as she led him into her cell.  
  
"You can stop hitting me with that stick now."  
  
He smiled. Walking over and laying it down on her bed he sat down and looked at her.  
  
"Why? Why didn't I kill him? He killed Karen. The one person I loved more than anyone else. Why?"  
  
She sighed, gathering her thoughts to her.  
  
"Have you ever heard them say that God is in all things."  
  
Matt nodded.  
  
"Maybe you saw that in him and in the cat and in the cars and trucks. God is in all things. The air we breathe and the fumes that are churned out by companies yearly."  
  
He dug into his pocket and pulled out a small golden cross.  
  
She smiled.  
  
"You still have it." She said  
  
"I can remember lying in my bed after the accident. I was sleeping, it came so reluctantly to me back then, that I grabbed it every chance I got. When I woke up I found this lying on my chest. You put it there didn't you?"  
  
"Like I said, Matthew. God is in all things and everything he does he does to test our faith. The perils in the world today, the evils you fight. It is all a test to prove that we haven't lost our way."  
  
Matt looked up at his mother.  
  
"What if I had killed him?"  
  
She looked at him and he read her heart, it skipped a few beats. She was scared.  
  
"I would be the first one to say he deserves it but we are not the ones to judge that, that is left to human courts and divine justice. All we can do is play out our role. You would have found it easier and every time you killed after that you would have made up excuses to make it seem plausible to yourself, to the people you work alongside. It is not our way, it is not our choice to make. Remember that."  
  
Matt left the church with more questions on his mind. He walked towards the main gate but stopped and adjusted his course towards the cemetery. He picked out the proper grave and sat there in front of it. He leant forward and traced the writings on the stone  
  
'Karen Paige'  
  
'Beloved'  
  
"It's been a little while now. I get by a little a day at a time. There is still that space inside me where you live. I think you will always live there. I love you Karen." 


End file.
